


Untitled

by Piggy_saBinring



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack Relationships, F/M, Post-S7, Show Verse Only, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 02:02:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15426612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piggy_saBinring/pseuds/Piggy_saBinring
Summary: At Winterfell, Howland Reed overhears a conversation not meant for his ears.





	Untitled

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first post of my work, here or on fanfic sites in general. Please be gentle and don't tear me a new one if it's awful. I appreciate constructive criticism and feedback. Let me know how you feel about it! (Just not in a nasty way, please...)

One day Lord Reed overheard his good-son in his cups. He was with Ser Bronn and Lord Tyrion, it seemed. “I don't understand,” Podrick lamented. “She's supposed to be my wife.”

“Yeah?” Bronn said back. “I know she's your wife. I don't see what the problem is... You just get it done and fuck her with that magic cock of yours.” He knocked back his drink and then belched loudly. “No problem.” Bronn laughed suddenly. “That offend you? If the swamp girl won't put out, there's a whole brothel of eager cunts in the Winter Town instead.”

“Piss off, Bronn,” Podrick slurred angrily. “I'll not dishonour my wife, even if she does hate me.” The sellsword snorted.

Howland heard Tyrion Lannister pipe up next. “Perhaps you should leave, Bronn,” the dwarf said evenly. “It may be better if I gave the boy advice in private.” Lord Reed heard the knight mutter under his breath, then the scraping of wooden chair legs on the stone floor. Last came the sound of a glass bottle being taken off the table. Howland melted back into the shadows, and Ser Bronn passed him by without even knowing Lord Reed was there.  
He waited for Podrick or Tyrion to speak once more. Howland didn't have to wait long. “Pod, are you saying to me that you've not consummated your marriage yet?” the little Lannister asked gently. The lad must have shaken his head, as Meera's father heard no reply. “Have you spoken to her about it?”

“She just sits as far away from me as she can get and sobs in the corner,” Podrick answered. “Meera says nothing at all when I talk to her... about anything.” He sniffled. “If I touch her, at all, even gently – even just to tell her I'm leaving our room – she flinches as if I've burned her.” Pod started to cry now. “I don't know what I've done to make her hate me so, my lord. I don't know what I'm doing wrong!”  
Howland decided he would not interrupt the boy pouring out his sorrows to his friend. But his curiosity burned at the fact that his daughter and good-son had not yet lain together. Even though he knew he should not, Lord Reed continued to eavesdrop.

“I don't know, Pod,” Tyrion answered comfortingly. “Mayhaps, you've done nothing wrong.” There was a pause. “Tell me what happened on your wedding night, when it came to the bedding...” Meera's father knew he shouldn't be listening to this, but he couldn't bring his legs to carry him away.

“Well, I was glad that Lady Sansa insisted there be no bedding ceremony,” young Payne confessed. “I don't understand why people want to do that anyway.” Tyrion said something Howland didn't catch. “Then I'm doubly glad... I don't want anyone to look at my wife undressed but me.”

The little lion snorted. “You are a good man, Podrick,” Tyrion said kindly. “It was good that you wanted to spare your wife that humiliation.” He took a loud slurp of his wine. “When you are finished, I'll tell you the full story of what happened when I wed Sansa Stark. Mayhaps, we have similar stories to tell.”

Podrick Payne murmured agreeably. “Alright, my lord,” he responded. “But I tell you this in confidence.” Tyrion acknowledged that and said the same in reply. Podrick agreed and continued in his tale. “I didn't go on up straight away.” The dwarf hmmed thoughtfully at that but said nothing. “I wanted to give her some time alone beforehand. Before we, you know...” He stumbled a bit now. “I... I thought... I guess I thought it might help Meera unwind, you know...”  
Howland's good-son took a deep breath before he barrelled on. “She was just so tense during the wedding and the feast... and... and I was so nervous... I just thought it might help her relax a bit.” Podrick paused from his heart-wrenching admission for a moment before Tyrion encouraged him to continue. “When I went up to our room, I knocked on the door and asked if I could come in.”  
He sniffled again. “My wife didn't answer. I tried a few more times before I opened the door and went on in anyway. If it was any other circumstance, I would have left... but it was my room, and I had nowhere else to go, my lord. I was worried for Meera.” Howland was saddened at the turn of events but happy that his good-son was as good a man as he'd been led to believe.

“Go on, Pod,” Tyrion prodded. “Tell me what happened next.”

Podrick sounded more distressed than before, to Howland's ear, when he spoke again. “She... um, she... she was lying on the bed, still clothed, with her eyes closed.” He took another deep breath. “If... if...” Podrick stammered, “if not for the fact that... that she was breathing heavily and... and... and was obviously squeezing her eyes shut, I could have possibly mistaken her for being asleep.” Tyrion hmmed again, and Podrick took that as encouragement to keep going.  
“I... I took my boots off,” he continued, “and sat on the side of the bed away from her.” Podrick's voice became more distressed. “Meera tensed up more and began to tremble. I... I put my hand... I put it on her shoulder and she... she recoiled from me as if I'd struck her. Then she covered her mouth with her hands and started weeping.” From where Howland stood, he too was weeping, only silently. He shouldn't have pressured Meera into this union, he thought and began second-guessing himself. She wasn't ready for it.  
“I asked her what was wrong, my lord,” Howland's good-son insisted. “I swear, I did. More than once. She wouldn't answer me... maybe... maybe she couldn't...” He sighed deeply. “I didn't know what to do, my lord, so I withdrew from her. I lay on my side of the bed, and she on hers, and nothing more happened for a time. Meera was still very tense, I... I could feel it. Eventually, I rolled over to look at her. She'd opened her eyes but was looking away to the wall.”  
Howland heard cups scuff and drink being downed before Podrick spoke again. “I asked her what was wrong but she was still silent, so I asked her if she wanted me to leave. Meera didn't answer straight away but when she did... she just quietly told me yes. She didn't even turn to look at me when she spoke! I told her... I apologised for disappointing her and left.”  
The boy sniffled yet again. “After I put my boots on again, I wandered the castle for a time, keeping to the shadows. I returned just before dawn and begged entrance again. There was no answer that time either, so I let myself in again. She was asleep but, even so, I did not lay in the bed with her. Instead, I sat in the chair by the hearth and fell asleep, my lord.”

“Hmm,” Tyrion said simply after Podrick had finished speaking.

“What is it, my lord?” Meera's husband pleaded with his friend. “What did I do wrong? How did I offend Meera so greatly, that she won't speak with me or let me even touch her?” The lad's obvious hurt was hard for Meera's father to listen to but, still, he did not reveal himself.

“Podrick, listen to me,” the Westerman lord said gently, “I think I may know what the problem is.”

“You... you do, my lord?” Podrick said, audibly relieved.

“Well, I have a hypothesis, at least,” Tyrion replied. “Can I ask you another question, Pod?” The lad must have nodded because Tyrion went on. “Have you ever lain with a maiden before?” Howland did not hear the boy's reply, if he gave any. “Hmm... Other than that trip to the brothel that I arranged for you, have you ever lain with a woman?”  
Again, Meera's father didn't hear the reply, but he was trying to tamp down on his anger at finding out his good-son had lain with prostitutes. _I am not without sin,_ Howland reminded himself, _so I cannot judge my son-by-law... but I will have words with him._

“No, my lord,” Podrick answered Lord Tyrion. “After your gift to me for saving your life, I... I had decided to keep myself for my future wife. It... it felt wrong to indulge in pleasures of the flesh. I mean, why are men allowed to and yet women aren't? It's unfair.”

“Perhaps that is a discussion for another time, Pod,” Tyrion replied, before sighing and downing another glass of alcohol. “In any case, I think I may need to educate you in a thing or two about women.” Podrick hesitantly gave Tyrion leave to continue. “Alright then.” The dwarf paused, seemingly to put his thoughts in order. “To begin with... the, uh, topography of maidens... it's, uh, it's a little different to women who have already been bedded, Pod.”  
Meera's husband sounded genuinely surprised and asked his mentor to explain. “Well, you see, there's... well, there's this little piece of skin that women have between their legs... it, well, it sort of blocks the entryway for a cock the first time she is taken by a man.” Tyrion sounded uncomfortable. “For a maid, when she is entered for the first time, it's... well, at best, it's uncomfortable for her and, at worst, extremely painful.” Howland heard one of them shift uncomfortably in their chair.  
“I'm sorry, this is awkward... for both of us,” the Westerman apologised before continuing his explanation. “But the reason why I'm telling you is this... all maids are passed on this information by their mothers. They are brought up knowing that one day they will be given to a man who may cause them pain when they lay together for the first time.” He took a deep breath, then sighed. “Podrick, it may simply be a case of your wife fearing you bedding her the first time.”  
Howland's good-son murmured what seemed like a hesitant acceptance of his friend's words. “If you want my advice...” Tyrion began. Podrick grunted affirmatively. The dwarf went on. “... Fine, my advice is this; don't pressure her. Allow her space from you. Don't touch her unless she asks you to. When your wife is comfortable with you, she will seek you out. Until then, I suggest you do nothing beyond trying to engage her in conversation.” The little Lannister sighed. “Women are complicated beings, but I have been assured that the right one is well worth the effort.”

Podrick's reply was worried. “What... what if she never is comfortable with me, my lord?” the lad stammered. “What if I repulse her and she never opens up to me?” Howland heard him softly crying now.

“Oh, Pod, my boy,” Tyrion consoled him. “I strongly doubt you repulse her.” Podrick mumbled something in reply. “Regardless,” the dwarf said back, “the advice I gave you is the same I gave myself after my wedding to Lady Sansa. Our wedding night was not unlike your own. She expected me to force myself on her despite her wishes. Even when I did not, she still did not trust me. You need to build that trust up with your wife, Pod.” Howland heard the scrape of chair legs and knew at least one of them was leaving. “Give her time, and she may just surprise you.”

The Lord of the Neck managed to retreat without being seen by either of the two men he'd been listening to. Howland Reed was torn as to what he should do; he needed to talk to Meera, but he also needed to speak to young Podrick Payne. Only he did not know which one to talk to first. Howland's daughter had been avoiding both her husband and her father it seemed. Maybe he should consult with one of the Starks before bothering his daughter or son-by-law.  
Lord Brandon or Lady Sansa, was the question... Brandon had been the one to suggest the match to Howland, but Sansa had been the one to champion an alliance between the Westerlands and the North in the first place. Brandon... Once, Howland had thought the young man in love with his daughter; Meera had undoubtedly been enamoured with Ned's boy. _Perhaps she still is?_ he wondered. After a brief thaw in the relationship, Brandon had grown cold and distant once more.  
Meera had been distraught after her betrothal had been announced and had demanded to see Brandon Stark before the wedding. He refused to see her; he'd refused to see anyone after the announcement. It had cut her heart too, the fact that Lord Brandon had not even brought himself out of his sequestration to attend the wedding, nor the feast that followed it. _Sansa,_ he decided finally. _I must speak with Lady Sansa first._

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is intended to be a one-shot for now. My muse has decided to go on a holiday and I don't know when, or if, it will decide to come back. I also cannot decide whether this is a later part of one of my other projects or not. Speaking of other projects, I have two much larger stories I'm thinking about posting but I'm hesitant to post them unless people actually want to read them.


End file.
